


2 times younghoon said goodbye and 1 time he didn’t

by daehwipped



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: 2+1 - Freeform, M/M, idk if this exists but i wrote this in an hour, mentioned chanhee, slight angst, stan the boyz, too lazy to do three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 00:24:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daehwipped/pseuds/daehwipped
Summary: “No one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again.”





	2 times younghoon said goodbye and 1 time he didn’t

**1.**

 

University. The supposed place of dreams and romance. Younghoon couldn’t wait to start anew, to meet new faces, new people, and perhaps, a new love. There’s something a little eccentric about him under the deceiving mask of handsomeness and modesty, the strange spark of excitement that fizzles wildly in his body whenever he thinks of spending nights living on coffee, and cramming to finish the assignments. Don’t get him wrong, Younghoon’s a reserved and timid guy, but that’s all the more reason why he has big dreams that will probably never come true.

His wild dream seems one step closer to reality, when a few months into university, he doesn’t completely shrivel and wither from the amount of essays, unlike most of his new friends, or his roommate, for that matter. But Hyunjae’s a little dumb when it comes to time management.

Maybe it was because he was too used to being swamped in work, but his mind is idle. A little too idle, perhaps, that he finds himself sitting on his bed, surrounded by empty bags of doritos, and the flaming-red cheesy seasoning stuck all over his finger pads. That wasn’t normal in university. He isn’t supposed to be left with nothing to do, at least not according to his professors, his seniors, and definitely not Hyunjae, who falls asleep face-down on his battery-dead laptop on a daily basis.

And Younghoon panics. Someone else would be out partying their right minds off, but this is Younghoon that’s in this situation. Younghoon likes normal. He abhors special things, from birthdays to being-free-when-you’re-not-supposed-to. He has to keep his mind docked somewhere safe, for a distraction, something to do. But he doesn’t know where to start. Joining a fishing club in the nearby community centre didn’t sound too smart. It was probably dumber to ask Hyunjae, (out of all people!) but maybe he has better suggestions.

(He doesn’t. But Younghoon tries it anyways.)

 

Sometimes, Younghoon thinks back, and go, “ _Oh, it’s this part of the story._ ” It’s an important part. The reason why this was written, the reason why he’s a mess now. It’s the answer to all of his current problems, though not very helpful. But then again, when is _he_ not the answer to he doubts?

Enter Ji Changmin, and suddenly, everything makes perfect sense.

Younghoon first laid eyes on the said boy when Hyunjae introduced him, mentioning something along the lines of them being dance partners for fun and such (Younghoon didn’t really catch all that. It seemed duly irrelevant compared to the boy standing in front of him). Changmin was cute, a mess of light blonde hair, and a questionable long neck, looking like both Younghoon’s future and mistake.

A few hang outs, study sessions over coffee and overly-sweet cake pops, and they were friends. Younghoon was thrilled, partly because he didn’t have to feel so odd and out of place being the only one relaxed (apparently majoring in dance is), and partly because this might be his shot at the romance he’s always thought of.

Changmin has a delectable personality, a nice mix of sweet, innocent, but sacarstic and serious. When he speaks, it’s either jokes or studies, and when he walks, his hand wrap itself habitually around Younghoon’s arm. There’s just something so attractive in him, something Younghoon can’t really put it into words, maybe his eyes, or perhaps his smile. But he liked it, the way how he liked Changmin without knowing why.

(Again, Younghoon’s a teeny bit eccentric.)

 

And, well, if he wanted a romance, he certainly got one a few months later, that one afternoon when Changmin kissed him, straight on the lips, soft and serious and everything that screams Changmin, and Younghoon can’t help but to allow himself fall deeper into this black abyss, fully knowing that he’d never get back up.

It’s dangerous in there. And scary, too. But as Younghoon felt himself falling, inch by inch, down into the endless pit, he never once did try to resist.

It’s what love does to you. It’s a sacrifice, and a side effect.

(Younghoon wished he learnt this earlier, but he knows that there won’t be a difference. He’s just a fool for him.)

 

They said that university sweethearts don’t last. Everyone dates for fun, just to have someone around with them, and pen down a full stop when they graduate and find jobs around the world. Younghoon was once like this too, thinking that Changmin was just someone he could spend time with, and at most, look back at the times they’ve spent together and reminisce.

That’s Plan A. It’s perfect. Flawless.

Except that it failed, and he doesn’t have a Plan B.

Somewhere along their smiles and dates, Younghoon can’t stop thinking. Changmin’s a important part of his life, he’ll say, but deep down, it really means so much more, that once again, he can’t really put it into words. The searing pain from the thought of leaving him, to force a period in the middle of a chapter, was unbelievable. Younghoon thought he could do this. Play this game well, like so many others did. Too bad his opponent was Changmin, the only man who can make him start crying and begging on the knees in a second.

He’s lost so badly. And he regrets it, so, so much.

Changmin loves him too. It’s obvious from his eyes, how they light up and sparkle, twinkling with the brightest stars Younghoon’s ever seen, and how his body seems like it’s almost made for him to hug and cuddle, and hold secure in his arms. They love each other. But they can’t be together, because life is a wall that separates the both of them, and it wouldn’t last long with Younghoon going overseas to work.

Perhaps that’s why it hurts so much. To know that a pair of lovers made for each other can’t be together.

The night when Younghoon stands right outside the departure gates, his brown coat wrapped snugly around him, his knuckles turning white from the grip on his suitcase— he turns around, to Changmin, and takes one last second to etch the last details of his face into his mind.

“I’ll miss you. Let’s keep in contact, yeah?”

Younghoon nods.

“Goodbye, Changmin.”

Their relationship ended just like how it started, vague, non directional. It’s better this way, he decides, so none of them have any heartbreaks.

The airplane soars off the ground, and in less than a day, Younghoon would be in London, speaking a new language, meeting new faces, new people, and perhaps, a new romance. But he knows he won’t have the last one.

Because no one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again.

 

**2.**

 

Younghoon decides that it’s strange to be in Korea again. The air, the skyscrapers, the sky, everything. Ten years of exposure in London did him both good and bad. He’s making decent amount of money, at least enough to afford a typical rich lifestyle, Gucci and all, but his tongue seems to be already foreign to the language he once spoke so fluently.

“To the hotel?”

“Yes, please.”

Younghoon peeks out of the window, and barely recognises a square. It’s now upgraded with screens featuring advertisements and all, but there’s one that captures his eyes. A all too familiar man, his face plastered on the screen for everyone to admire. Those eyes that held the whole galaxy, that questionable long neck— it’s Ji Changmin.

He’s not a stranger to news on him. Changmin’s a member of a famous boy group, and Younghoon’s just glad he’s pursuing his dreams since university, and succeeded at it. Unlike him. He’s successful, but he’s not happy, and him coming back to Korea for a few months wasn’t only to take care of some business. He still hasn’t gotten out of the abyss, and he’s slowly and dangerously running out of oxygen. He’s getting suffocated.

Sure, Younghoon has experienced new romance. But it was less than satisfactory, and nothing compared to what he and Changmin had. He takes one last look at the screen before the cab makes a turn, and sighs as the sun rays reflect off it, blinding him momentarily.

(It reminded him of Changmin’s smile.)

 

Oh Younghoon likes his hotel room. Clean, smells nice, and has a nice bed. He’s satisfied, but hungry. And so like any other sane human, he goes out for lunch. Maybe Hyunjae’s wife’s chicken shop. He heard that it was running in the family for a few generations, and that it was voted for one of the best chicken places in the newspapers. He’d drop by to have some of that, and chat with Hyunjae over some coffee. He probably still makes terrible diluted coffee, just like back in the university days.

Younghoon doesn’t expect the lift to stop at one of the lower floors, and a stranger walks in, his face half-hidden with a black mask. Younghoon doesn’t pay attention to trivial things like these. Except, when he turns around to meet the stranger’s eyes, he stops.

He stops functioning. His brain stops thinking. The gears in his mind stops. His breathing stops, and if not for his heart which, thankfully, continued beating, he’d be in a hospital by now.

“Younghoon? Younghoon! It’s been so long!” Changmin takes off his mask, and Younghoon braces himself to fall deeper again, and _maybe, just maybe_ , a tiny voice inside of him says, _you won’t be able to get out again._

(He’s not sure about that. But he’s sure that he won’t be getting chicken anytime soon.)

 

Changmin, to summarise in the shortest and most efficient way possible, barely changed. A man at the age of thirty, his skin is still as smooth as a baby’s butt, and his high-pitched voice never really toned down. Younghoon’s weirdly comfortable in his hotel room, sipping coffee from a mug as Changmin talks about his career.

“How about you? Thought you went to London and weren’t coming back.”

“Here for some business things, a few months or so. Not for long though.”

Changmin pouts, before resting his head on one hand, tilting it so that he’s observing Younghoon at an angle, squinting his eyes and all, and Younghoon thinks that he’s getting goosebumps. He can’t tell if it’s good or bad. Maybe both.

“Oh, did you know that I’m engaged?”

The sudden question came out much like a bullet, directly aimed towards Younghoon’s left chest, and successfully penetrating it. His eyes shift to the glittering diamond ring fitted perfectly on Changmin’s middle finger, and he doesn’t know why, but he can hear his heart cracking, and darkness surrounding him in the abyss.

 _Congratulations_ , a small voice in his head said. _You’ve officially fallen so deeply in you can’t even see the light now_.

“I presume not. A member of my group proposed to me. We’ve been dating for a few years.”

A few years. That’s many times more than the measly months he and Changmin spent together, and Younghoon feels sick.

“Are you happy with him?”

A shrug.

“He loves me. And I feel comfortable around him.”

Younghoon stands up, an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m so sorry Changmin, but I have to go to a meeting now, I promise to talk to you more, alright?”

Changmin’s expression’s unreadable, somewhere in between suspicious and surprised, but smiles politely, a Changmin smile, and open the door for Younghoon to exit.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Changmin.”

Younghoon really hates how he’s not over any of this. Changmin’s already almost married, yet he’s still holding on to a non-existent strand of hope, in his own imagination, whereas in reality, all he’s doing is drowning and unable to breath in that damned abyss.

Most of all, he hates how he can’t stop saying goodbye.

 

**+1.**

 

Once, in university, Changmin said something.

“You know the ‘butterflies in your stomach’ feeling? That’s the feeling you get when you’re in free fall. The feeling of weightlessness. It’s physics, but I think love works the same way.”

The feeling of weightlessness. To free fall. Younghoon’s still having those butterflies in his stomach, because he can’t stop falling into the abyss. He can’t stop loving Changmin. To have your heart craving for something you can’t get, it’s a horrible thing. The constant hope you think you have, but it’s all a mirage. There was no hope in the beginning, and there won’t be any in the future.

He realises now, that these were the only things he needed to grasp fully to escape the abyss, to float up into the light again, to feel happy again.

But for that, he needs to let go of Changmin.

Younghoon doesn’t mind. His hope was a mirage. He’s got to snap back to reality some time, and stop this toxic spiral that’s tightening around his mind snares. He packs his things, cancels his flight ticket for a earlier one back to London.

Room 306. Changmin’s room. Younghoon stares at the sleek wooden door, contemplating, if he should leave without warning, or anything else. A few moments pass, and he shakes his head, striding down the carpeted corridor.

He won’t say goodbye to him, ever again, because no one says goodbye unless they want to see you again.

 

He’s found the way out of the abyss.

 

**FIN.**

**Author's Note:**

> so this was probably, most likely a shitty work. the quote “no one every says goodbye unless they want to see you again” came from john green, and the random sentence changmin said about physics came from my physics teacher!! if you stan the boyz or ship bbangkyu aka kyuhoon, hmu on twitter @/qutezhe


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